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Have you ever woken up, stumbled out of bed, looked outside, and wondered what on earth happened?

It seems my husband was a bit tardy in bringing the yard gnomes in for the winter, and gnomes being gnomes, they became angry about being left to wither in frozen tundra. Unable to vent their anger upon the large, big booted human, they turned on each other. This, then, is what I saw that frosty morning:

Tiny weapons were strewn everywhere; left behind in their speedy retreat when the big booted human appeared to retrieve the morning paper.

The slow to fly south, quick to fly north birds tweeted for shelter, but none was to be found.

Even the grass cowered in fear.

The wildlife attempted to build a fort, but all was in vain.

The battle was fierce; many gnomes would leave never to return.

Eventually, the wildlife beat a hasty retreat…

… but not before one last, terrible encounter.

Quickly, lest they be caught, the remaining gnomes dragged their wounded to the wilderness in search of their mushroom houses where they would fortify themselves with tales of their heroism during that long, brutal winter when their owners forsook them.